Warlock
by ShinkonoKokoro
Summary: Enter Merlin: A Superhero slash magical boy.   Arthur: The chief of Camelot Police.  Enter the baddies that bring them together in the end.
1. Chapter 1

"Morgana! Morgana! Someone saw! Someone knows! They know my identity!" Merlin gasped as he slipped in the door of the flat they shared. And by shared, Merlin of course meant Morgana paid and he cleaned, grocery shopped, and cooked. And paid no rent.

At her computer, Morgana rolled her eyes. "No one saw, Merlin. Stop being paranoid and make me a snack."

Propping his staff up against the wall, Merlin glared at her. "I'm being serious!"

"So am I. I'm starving. A cheese on toast would be lovely."

"Fine." Merlin threw up his hands. "Fine. Don't believe me. Just wait until the whole of Camelot news is at our front door, clamouring about the masked vigilante."

Morgana rolled her eyes again and flipped the lid of her laptop shut. "Merlin, no one saw. They probably just thought you were a teenager slipping in after curfew."

"A teen—" Merlin gaped and then glared. "Thanks. Thanks, Morgana. I _am_ twenty seven, you know."

She grinned sweetly. "I don't know why you don't allow me to buy you some sort of getaway vehicle. At least a motorbike. Come on, Merlin."

"Because you pay for everything else," he said, cheeks flushed. "It's more than enough."

"I'm not bailing you out of jail, should you ever be caught. If that helps."

Rolling his eyes with a martyred sigh, Merlin thumped into the kitchen to make Morgana a sandwich.

"That's my boy!" She called after him.

"Yours will be burnt!" He yelled out of spite, both of them knowing it really wouldn't be—it would be perfectly browned, just the way she liked it.

****  
Arthur's morning had been going brilliantly. Four arrests and a drug ring busted and it was only 11 A.M. Then his partner Gwen dropped by with the morning paper.

"Masked Vigilante Saves Local Shop Owner from Violent Robbery, Stops Car from Falling off Bridge, and Snuffs Out Apartment Fire," the headline read.

He frowned furiously. The bleeding chap had been stealing the precinct's thunder for the past eleven months. Ever since he blew into town, Arthur had been hard pressed to keep morale up in his unit. The Pendragons were all about law. Arthur and Uther. Cop and Mayor. Keeping Camelot safe and orderly. Only, Warlock, as the mad man called himself, had cut crime by about forty five percent. One man better than a whole precinct? That couldn't do. He really needed to put a stop to this nonsense.

"GWEN!"

She was in his office, serene as always, in seconds. "No need to bellow. What is it?"

"I need everything we have on Warlock."

"Why?"

"Gwen, were it your job to question every order I give, I would have hired you. As it is, I did not know you came with that particular feature, or I would fire you. Unfortunately, you are much too good, and I haven't the time to train a new partner and second in command, so you're not. Now kindly bugger off and do as I ask?"

"Tetchy this morning, are we, Arthur?" She replied serenely with that irritatingly calm smile of a person who knows that her job is in no way threatened.

"_We_ are not anything, _Gwen_. Now go. Warlock needs to be stopped once and for all."

"Oh?"

"Yes, he's ruining our morale, stealing our thunder—" he shook the front page at her "and causing the people to lose faith in their law enforcement agency."

"He does do our job rather well, doesn't he?"

"Gwen, not helping."

She shrugged. "Well, I think it's lovely that people help other people."

Arthur grit his teeth. "Not when they're doing our jobs it isn't!"

"I don't mind. Besides, a little competition never hurt anyone."

"You will when the public decides it doesn't need us and then cut our funding until we're nothing more than paper-pushers with hourly wages and no benefits!"

Gwen snorted. "Because that will ever happen with your father as mayor."

"Until they kick him out and elect our mystery hero!"

"And then he'll parade down the street in that costume of his, sweep off his mask, and reveal his identity," Gwen replied sagely.

Glowering, Arthur conceded the point. "Very well. It's a bit ridiculous. But all the same, I'd like to track him down and kindly ask him to leave our city."

The grin was probably entirely too indulgent for Arthur's liking, but she agreed and left. But enough, Arthur decided, was enough. This was enough.


	2. Chapter 2

"Morgana! Morgana! Someone saw me," Merlin hissed, scooting in the door.

"No one saw you," Morgana sighed with martyred patience. "Must we go through this routine every night?"

He giggled when he saw Morgana's arched brow above her thick glasses. "Just kidding."

"Honestly, Merlin. Your acting skills leave something to be desired."

He kicked off his shoes and walked into the room, flopping himself onto the couch.

"Is the part of the evening, Merlin, where you're absolutely useless?"

"Mm. Seems so, 'Gana."

"Well, don't sound so self-satisfied, Merlin. What happened tonight?"

"You're actually interested?"

"I suppose I am." Morgana leaned her chin elegantly on her hand, fixing her gaze on him.

"Well. You know. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Oh really?"

"Yes." He looked at her over the back of the couch.

"Fine then. Don't tell me if anything exciting happened. I don't mind in the slightest."

"And you know reverse psychology won't work on me."

"Your brilliance is obviously too much," Morgana retorted wryly.

His head dropped back down, voice carrying over to her. "Nothing happened really. There is evidence of an organised crime ring. It shall have to be looked into more in depth, but I don't know if it will be a threat."

"That sounds pretty serious, Merlin," Morgana said mildly, returning her attention to her computer.

"Mm. I thought so," he said, the words ending in a yawn.

"You'll get on that, I assume?"

"Hmm. Yes. Tomorrow."

"And they say that procrastination doesn't cause harm," she murmured with a fond smile.

Merlin muttered something unintelligible from the couch, but Morgana let it go, letting him slip into sleep.

* * *

"GWEN!"

"What did I say about shouting, Arthur?" Gwen said calmly as she entered his doorway.

He ground his teeth. "_Gwen_, we have _problems_ in our city, and one of them is _not_ me worrying about your feelings."

She arched a cool eyebrow and said breezily, "I'm going to forgive you for that comment because I know you don't mean it, Arthur. You're stressed and under pressure and that makes you crabby. But if it happens again, you'll be getting a slap to the face."

Opening his mouth, Arthur forced it shut again, feeling suitably reprimanded. "You're absolutely right, Guinevere. I'm sorry. I was out of line and inappropriate. Forgive me."

She smiled sunnily. "Done. Now did you need something?"

"Yes. Yes, I have some suspicions as well as knowledge of some thin rumours that there are things of a nefarious nature going down in the Boskin sector of Lower Town."

"And you couldn't take slightly fewer words to say that?" Gwen teased.

"You're not taking this seriously."

Rolling her eyes, Gwen sighed. "Yes, Arthur. We know nothing for certain right now, though, correct?"

"Correct," he admitted grudgingly. "However, there _are_ reports of strangers moving into the area as well as some suspicious-looking activity in the docks vicinity."

"It's always the docks. I'll be sure the officers of that area are keeping their eyes open and wits sharp." Gwen nodded.

"Excellent. And what news have we on Warlock?"

"Still nothing. Other than crimes he's helped abort."

Arthur scowled. "Perhaps it's time we offered a reward for information..."

"I'll have posters made up."

"Make sure we have at least a halfway decent picture of him on there as well. 100 pounds to start, I think."

"Yes, Sir." She gave a mocking little salute and then left.

Staring hard at the information in front of him, Arthur heaved a sigh. Ran a mental list of the pros and cons of letting this figure remain loose. Pros. Crime, of course, was down. With the constant threat of a watching entity, would-be criminals would be more cautious of their actions. And since the mysterious man cut a quite dashing figure, if the rubbish photos were to be believed, then people were more willing to impress him and tattle on their naughty neighbours. He straightened. Had they information about the man? He frowned. It was less than likely, however, he still scribbled it down on a note-pad as a possible lead. More pros. He could possibly pair up with the person and use him as a sidekick. He rolled his eyes. Sure. And his father would step down willingly from Mayor.

Cons. Precinct morale down. Rogue element. Unknown motivations. Perhaps he was just lulling them all into a false sense of security. Then he would make his move and take over the city. Or some such nonsense. Unknown skills. What did he want? Warlock could get in the way of investigations, muddle up evidence. And as he'd detailed to Gwen the other day, if their jobs were done_ for_ them, then they would serve no purpose. And Arthur _hated_ not having a purpose. To serve and protect. That was his job. And if he couldn't do it... Well. What was the point to life then?

Besides. Arthur took pride in his work. What was the point of letting someone else do it for him, when he was perfectly capable. This was _his_ city, and by God, he was going to protect it. No one else was going to do the job for him.

Cons win. Warlock was going down. Even if it meant searching him out himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Letting his head drop down onto his desk for a moment—just a moment, Merlin closed his eyes. These late nights were becoming frustrating. There was so much area to cover. So many people. And even with the hints in peoples' windows, their candle-light beacons, he couldn't help them all. Maybe if he copied himself he—Merlin sat up straight suddenly, startling his co-worker returning to her cubicle. He ignored the strange look that she gave him. It didn't matter. Could he clone himself? The thought brought a grin to his face. That way he could leave one self at home during the day to sleep and be refreshed for action at night and leave the other to do the opposite!

Then he thought about Morgana having to take care of two of him and slumped sullenly back into his chair. Of the non-ergonomic variety. Thank you, boss.

But then his phone rang and he had to actually do work, the rest of the afternoon passing in a flurry of finding paperwork, faxing, fixing, editing, organising, compiling, numbers, and filing. All in a day's clerical and accounting work.

Merlin trudged home, hoping that Morgana would still be out. She was one of the higher-ups in a law firm and always working. Always. Either late or from home on her computer when she could manage it and after hours if need be. So her being out would not be too much of an unusual thing. However, it would afford him the silence to be able to just _be_ in their flat and let him clean and cook dinner. And as domestic as those two things made him sound, they were comforting. They were _easy_. He didn't have to deal with criminals. He didn't have to deal with liars and cheats. He didn't have to deal with danger. He didn't have to deal with crabby pregnant bosses. He didn't have to deal with stuck-up co-workers. He didn't have to deal with irate customers with questions. And most importantly, he didn't have to deal with Morgana's gaze.

Looking up at the building that housed their expensive flat, he knew that Morgana maybe fancied him a bit. Pitied him. She definitely found him unusual, and not in a way that made the other kids shy away in the halls of a high school. Rather, she found him a puzzle. His skills, his reasons. They were all a puzzle to her, and for all the times that Merlin insisted she knew the whole story, she figured there were things that he was leaving out about his arrival to Camelot.

And she was right.

So he didn't want her peering after his every movement to try and discern why and how he did what he did.

"Hullo, Sir," the doorman said as Merlin approached the door to the building.

"'Lo, Duncan. How's it going today?"

"Oh, just brilliant, Sir, brilliant."

"Duncan," Merlin said tiredly.

"Oh, right. _Merlin_, Sir. Merlin." Duncan smiled and held the door open.

Ignoring his simple smile, Merlin waved and skulked over to the lift, pressing the 16th floor button. Duncan was kind, but his mind a steel trap, was not.

"Hello? Morgana?" He shut the door behind him and dropped his briefcase by the door, hanging his jacket and lining his shoes up neatly on the mat next to the door. "'Gana?" No answer. He sighed in relief and immediately shed his clothing, walking in only his pants to his bedroom. Small freedoms. Take them where you can. Merlin hung his clothing and changed into a pair of shorts and a ratty t-shirt. He maybe danced a little around the table to investigate the contents of their fridge and see what can be made of them for dinner. There was some left-over chicken, a carton of milk, a pan of grilled vegetables that was about to go bad, as well as some other odds and ends. Pizza, bread, some muffins. Stew it was. Merlin swept the former into his arms, and dumped it all in a pot to simmer until Morgana was home. He would have to shop for groceries tomorrow on the way home.

Then he tackled the dusting, the vaccuuming, the dreaded bathroom (Morgana's hair always got horribly tangled in both the sink and tub drains. Maybe it was time he made her clean it... It would, perhaps, inspire her to actually use the hair catcher in the tub.), the kitchen, the mirrors and reflective surfaces, and wooden floor areas.

It was shortly after seven when he finished, dinner was ready, and he was starving. Merlin waffled a little, waiting for Morgana to come home so that they might share dinner, but then it was a quarter to eight and his stomach won out.

He scribbled a short note and stuck it on top of the container he put the rest of the stew in, confident that she could work a microwave. With a last satisfied look around, he darted into his room, grabbed the tall wooden staff with a murky blue stone at the top from the back of his closet and made his way up to the roof of the building. Looking out over the city, he took a deep breath and murmured, "_Newid_" and waited for the transformation to sweep over his body, his plain clothes transforming into the outfit his magic has seen fit to give him. And, not for the first time, he grumbled to himself about the form-fitting trousers with the piping down the sides, the neck-scarf high under his chin and the elaborate tailed coat with matching piping around the wrists and on the sleeves and _epaulettes_ of all things. Affecting a grimace, Merlin adjusted the half-mask covering the top part of his face (also obnoxiously elaborate, though it is made of soft, comfortable leather).

With a sudden grin, he ran towards the edge of the roof, taking a flying leap. The air separated beneath him until he whispered "_hedfan_" and he was soaring through the night air, a little nippy, but absolutely exhilarating. Following upper Batten street, he soared between the buildings of West Garb street.

Merlin thought it was going to be a slow night when a burning building on Lower East caught his attention. Swooping round he felt the power flow through him as he hissed, "_ddiffodd_" and the flames vanished obediently. After the roar of the flames was gone, the cries caught his attention. He easily dispelled the smoke and then knelt before the weak cowering inhabitants.

"You're safe now," he said softly, extending a hand towards the wide-eyed child and his parents. "You'll be fine now. Shall we get you out then?"

"Warlock!" The child's grimy face lit up.

"Hullo! Come on then. Up we go. Hold tight to my hand everyone. Ma'am, a hand on my shoulder. There we are—_dychwelyd i'r ddaear_." And then they were on the ground again. "Anyone else in the building?"

"Ah, n-no..." the mother said, dropping her hand from his shoulder. "The neighbours were out of town. And it's just our two families."

"Thank you," the father said earnestly.

Merlin smiled, becoming uncomfortable. "Yes, yes. I have to go now. I'm glad you're fine, and so sorry about your home." Then he was in the air again, escaped from their praise and adoration, on to other things. Like stopping two more robberies, a mugging, and stopping a suicider from the bridge.

By the time he returned home, criminals neatly packaged on the front step of the Camelot Police Precinct, Morgana was there. Slumped on the couch, novel in hand, he shook his head at her fondly and then magicked her into her bed, tucking the covers up around her chin.

He stepped back to his own room, tucking away the staff and whispering, "_newid_" again, and slipped beneath his own sheets until morning.

* * *

The arrival of the morning paper soured Arthur's mood before he even arrived at work.

"Good morning, Arthur," Gwen said, handing him a cup of coffee and a folder of paperwork for him to look over. Assumably. He hated that she was a morning person. He so clearly, was not.

"Any luck with the phones, Gwen?"

"No, Sir. No information has been forwarded to us about Warlock. I assume that's what you meant?"

"What? Oh. Yes. Yes, it is. Thank you," he muttered, moving towards his office. He paused. "Have we talked to the family that he rescued last night?"

Gwen looked up from her desk. "Beg pardon?"

"Follow me, please, Guinevere." He stalked into his office.

"What is your whim, oh _sire_?"

"The sarcasm is not appreciated."

"Of course not."

"_Gwen_." He pressed fingers to his temples. "I _asked_ have we talked to the family that he rescued last night? Did they say anything about him?"

"He's apparently young, Sir."

"Young? And how is that helpful?"

"It narrows our demographic."

"Tch. Yes. Of course. What else?"

"He was very kind, looked dashing in his navy blue jacket, the mum said. And he was very thin. She seemed concerned that he wasn't eating enough."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "And we shall tell him exactly that. _As soon as we find him_."

"The father added that he spoke a strange language sometimes, his eyes turning gold when he did."

Arthur straightened, eyebrows shooting up. "_Magic_."

"I would agree, Sir," Gwen said with a nod, leaning her hip up against his desk.

"Interesting. That would explain everything. I can't believe I didn't think of it before. And here I thought they'd all left the country."

"Thanks to your father."

"Yes, please, Gwen. Dig it in more. I'm not..." He sighed. "Never mind. I'm not having this discussion with you right now. At any rate, we can search through our databases for magic users."

"It's all very superman, isn't it?" Gwen said with a smile.

Arthur made another annoyed noise. "Hardly. It's vigilanteism. And it's against the law."

"Relax, Arthur. Honestly."

"Was there anything else, Gwen?

"I think that... Mm. Dark hair. Eyes blue when not gold from magic." She shrugged. "I think that was everything."

He hummed and nodded, staring at his desk hard. "Give it through the weekend for the phones before we bring in help."

"Help?"

"Don't sound so surprised, Gwen. Even I can admit when I need help."

"This might be the first time, actually."

"Stop it. Raise the reward amount to 250 pounds."

"Will do, Sir."

"Thank you, Gwen." Arthur watched her go, not without a little more than professional appreciation. Gwen had been with him through everything. They'd always flirted with a relationship. A kiss for New Year's. Gifts on birthdays and Christmas. And perhaps they'd be together if it weren't for Arthur's disastrous relationship with his father. Gwen had been with him through all of that mess—when Arthur had tried not caring about his father's view of him and gone just a bit mad with the need to prove himself. He wasn't proud of it, but Gwen had been supportive of him through entire ordeal until he sat down with his father and they agreed to disagree on some things. And then never speak of them again in favour of adopting a professional relationship, getting to know one another as people instead of family.

So they'd bypassed the relationship and remained friends. Arthur didn't want to ruin what they had by exploring what they might have had.

With a muttered curse, Arthur drained the dregs of his coffee and trudged to the staff room for a refill. It was going to be a long weekend.


	4. Chapter 4

"Did you check out the docks area, Merlin?" Morgana asked when he staggered into the kitchen.

"Good morning to you too," he rasped, voice unsteady with sleep.

"Did you?"

"No. I forgot."

"Merlin..." Morgana's voice was reedy with disapproval.

"It's Saturday, 'Gana. I can to do it later today," he muttered, heading straight for the fancy coffee maker Morgana blessedly kept full.

"You're on the front page again. The police hate you."

"Hate me?" This roused him a bit. "Why do they hate me?"

"You do do their job, Merlin," she returned wryly, biting into a piece of toast.

After half a mug of chugged coffee, Merlin dropped a couple of slices of bread into the toaster. "Well, I wouldn't have to if they did a better job of it."

Morgana laughed. "You don't even believe that."

He ducked his head, muttering, "Maybe not, but if I have these talents, then there's no reason why I shouldn't be helping out, right? I can help, so I may as well do my part as a good citizen."

"Of course, Merlin."

He joined her at the table and yawned jaw-crackingly before sipping his coffee at a more sedate pace. "I did see more lights around the docks area when I flew near it," he said quietly.

Morgana looked up over her glasses, waiting.

"I didn't check it out, but I think there is definitely something going on there. I have this... this _feeling_ that something's not right there. I can't really explain it, Morgana, but I—"

"I believe you," she said simply, lowering her eyes.

"Y-you do?"

She smiled at him. "Merlin. You've never lied to me. Not about anything important. So there's no reason for you to lie to me now."

His heart swelled. "Thanks."

"Plus you keep my flat tidy, organised, do my laundry, make me food, and do all of the things that I really don't want to do."

He rolled his eyes. "Glad to be your live-in maid."

"In return for room and board."

"You don't have to remind me," he mumbled into his mug, feeling his cheeks flush.

"Oh, Merlin. You know I don't mean it like that. I'm just ribbing."

Returning her smile, he hopped up to get his toast, spreading a generous amount of butter and marmalade on top.

"Merlin, with the amount you eat, I'm really quite amazed you're so skinny," she sighed, looking at him over the back of her chair.

"Must be the magic!" He chirped, returning to his seat. "What are your plans for the day?"

"I think some shop therapy is in order."

"Um...did you...want me to come with?"

"Yes."

"Ugh, Mor_gana_!"

"You need a new suit jacket, Merlin. That one that you've been wearing to work is looking ratty."

"There's nothing wrong with it!"

She rolled her eyes. "I can find you a new one just like it. Don't worry."

"For three times the price!"

"All in the name of charity."

"Thank you, Morgana," Merlin drawled rather ineffectively around a mouthful of toast.

"You're welcome. Now you'd best get dressed. And have another piece of toast. We'll lunch out today, but knowing you, Merlin, you'll be hungry before long."

He scowled at her but dropped another piece of bread into the toaster before shuffling back to his room. Messy room. "_Gl__ân_," he murmured, and the items on the floor hurried themselves into drawers properly folded and back to where they belonged. What was the point of doing laundry when things could clean themselves. He grinned, pulling on proper clothes, slipping his wallet into his pocket and rejoining Morgana in the main room.

"Ah, there's the Merlin that doesn't look like a hobo!"

"You know perfectly well that I wear respectable clothes all week," he retorted without heat, grinning. "I'm all ready for your shopping marathon." He snagged his piece of toast.

"Excellent," she replied with a toss of her head. "I need shoes, a bag, a new suit, and probably some new glasses."

"Morgana, you have _eight_ pairs of glasses," Merlin countered as they made their way out the door and down to Morgana's car in the parking garage.

"Maybe even a little moped for you to make your getaways."

Merlin rolled his eyes, sliding into the passenger seat of Morgana's expensive car. "And we've talked about this, right? It doesn't matter when I can fly, anyway."

Morgana just laughed, pulling into traffic. "Merlin, I don't think you understand how amazing you are."

"Why...Morgana! If I didn't know better, I'd think that you were coming onto me."

"Sorry to disappoint, dear; you're hardly my type."

But Merlin caught her flushing, fingers tight around the steering wheel. He smiled to himself. "Just be sure we're home before six. I'll, no doubt, want a nap before I go out and stroll the streets," he said, moving into safer territory.

"Of course of course..."

He thought it was revenge that prompted Morgana to acquire so many bags, Merlin thought as he panted after her. As they made to step into the latest shoe boutique, Morgana raised an eyebrow at him.

"Really, Merlin? One would have thought that you, of all people, would be able to carry that many bags." She smiled smugly.

Eyebrows shooting up, Merlin suddenly scowled. The blasted thought hadn't even occurred to him. He immediately whispered a word and the bags were lighter. He grinned.

Morgana took a blessedly short amount of time in the shoe store before dragging him as promised—threatened—to a men's clothing store. She sighed and then dragged him back to a hidden corner of the store. "Merlin, can't you just magic the bags back to the car. They really won't help you here."

"Magic the—Morgana!"

"Just do it."

He glared at her and then looked around furtively before murmuring, "_i'r car_." The bags obediently vanished. He blinked. "I hope they ended up in the car..." He looked at Morgana, maybe allowing himself to be a little pleased by her rapt attention.

"I never tire of watching you perform magic, Merlin," she said with a smile. Then promptly grabbed his wrist and handed him over to a tailor.

After another hour of being told to _stop fidgeting_ and _stand still_ and _stand up straight, young man_, Merlin finally slumped into a seat as the stuffy old tailor brought out bolts of fabrics, Morgana eyeing each one as if trying to discern the answer to a test from sheer will. Merlin excused himself to the loo.

Or, he _would _have, except that he bumped into another person as soon as he managed to duck away.

"Watch where you're going, would you?" A snide voice chastised.

Steadying himself on the counter next to him, Merlin looked at the person he'd run into, a little bit shocked at the golden man's splendour. "Um. Hello. Sorry."

The man huffed and then looked him up and down. "Just watch where you're going next time, right?"

"Uh-huh," Merlin responded dumbly, feeling a little violated.

The man looked at him strangely and then moved past Merlin to talk to the tailor like they were old friends.

Merlin managed to find his way to the loo.

Morgana met him on the way out. "Are you alright, Merlin?"

"Just fine. I think I might..." he breathed out. "I think I might fancy men... A man."

"Merlin," Morgana drawled, "you're drooling, sweetie."

This drew Merlin from his stupor. "I am not."

"No, but you were about to start."

"Oh,..." Merlin stared at Morgana, thinking of all her fondness for him. And his for her. "I think... I think I still like women. And you're great. You're _intimidating_, but you're great. And I just... He was _amazing_, 'Gana."

"Merlin."

He blinked at her.

"I saw him. That was the chief of police."

"Shit."

"Mm. Come along now." She patted his shoulder and breezed by, driving them home. "As much as I hate to interrupt your sexual crisis, I would not get involved with that man. His father is the Mayor, and he's likely the one who put a reward on your head.

"Reward?" Merlin yelped as they re-entered Morgana's flat.

"Yes," she said mildly, removing her coat. "You didn't know?"

"Does my reaction suggest that I _knew_?"

"Well, just be careful, Merlin." Morgana smiled. "It's just for information, but still. You should be extra careful. Now go take your nap."

Stunned, Merlin made his way to his room, shut the door, and fell flat on his bed. There was no _way_ he was going to be sleeping now.

* * *

Arthur spread all of the information about Warlock across his table. He'd just arrived home from the tailor. He needed a new suit for an honorary banquet that his father was hosting for the civil servants of the city. The trip was nothing new. Except for the bumbling idiot that had run into him. With big ears.

Arthur snorted and then promptly felt embarrassed for laughing alone. At the poor man whose ears stuck out too far from his head. He started laughing again. He really couldn't help it. He'd just _stared_ at him, like he was some sort of delectable chocolate cake. Or something. He shuddered briefly. Nature really had been unfortunate to some people.

Sighing, he pulled the Chinese carton closer and stabbed randomly at the contents while he perused the facts again. Nothing useful had come in about Warlock. He saved people. He did good deeds. He frowned, stuffing a forkful of food in his mouth.

After an hour of looking through the information, Arthur realised that he didn't know much more. Warlock was young, had dark hair, wore a mask, some ridiculous outfit, carried a staff, looked like a dandy, was kind, skinny, soft-spoken, and tall. About 1.83 metres. About his height. A little taller, one man said. The man was obviously skilled at hiding his identity and being subtle if no one knew anything about him other than demeanour and appearance. And a 6 foot tall, skinny, dark-haired man was not enough of a description was nothing to go on. There were hundreds of those in Camelot.

Dropping his head to the table he was actually relieved when Leon called wanting to know if he was interested in going to a pub where 'a really great local band is playing.'

"Sure. Which one is it?"

"The Grey Maiden. Corner of Abthfer and Guiding Avenue."

"Be there shortly." Arthur hung up and stripped off his lounge clothes into something more appropriate, finally pleased with a tight pair of jeans and a soft red t-shirt that hugged his chest and arms.

"Leon!" Arthur said with a smile as he clapped his friend on the back.

The man turned and looked up at him. "Arthur. Good to see you. Good to know even the law can take a night off."

He grinned. "Of course!"

"Brilliant. I wanted you to meet Nimueh." He gestured to the woman sitting next to him, all smiles and dark hair and beauty.

He held out a hand. "Pleasure."

"Pleasure's all mine," she smiled gently, shaking his hand.

"She's just moved here," Leon said, his arm resting easily around her shoulders.

"Oh? And what brings you to Camelot?" Arthur asked, sliding onto the bench across from them.

She smiled and Arthur learned that her parents died recently, so she moved from a small town in the Islands to Camelot for better job opportunities. She loved the colour red, was into tarot, and hated chips with a passion. But she was keen for beer. So it flowed for the three of them until Arthur glanced at his watch and rose unsteadily.

"I need to be getting home," he slurred.

"You going to make it, mate?" Leon asked, voice just as slurry.

"Yes..." Arthur swayed. "I'll be...just fine. Catch a cab back. Nimueh...s'lovely to meet'cho."

"Lovely to meet you too!" She replied with a smile and a wave.

Arthur staggered out of the pub, trying his honest best to walk straight, stumbling a little into a lamp post. He decided that was as good a place as any to try and regain his equilibrium. He glanced up at the moon, frowning when a blue light streaked across the sky. A figure. A person.

He scoffed in his head. People don't fly.

Unless they're _magic_! Sobering quickly, Arthur took off, loping down the pavement, trying to follow the figure in the sky. He had a little blue light with him—that wasn't very subtle, so it made him easier to follow in the darkness.

Nearing the docks, the suspicion grew louder in his mind and wilder in his heart. The docks had always been a problem area, especially after dark, so it would make sense that the mysterious figure—presumably Warlock, would be involved. He slowed when he buildings grow shorter and further apart, taking on the attitude of a casual person walking home after work. The docks soon stretched before him, imposing towers of shipping canisters like mountains, making Arthur shudder against the sudden chill of the wind off the water.

He skulked through the shadows, wishing he had his gun on him, feeling the last of the liquor fade in his blood. Small lights bobbed in the distance—torches? Clearly, there were people there. He could catch no hint of the dandy-figure, no blue light from the staff amongst the golden lights, however. Frowning, Arthur crept closer, trying to hear some of the words, cursing as his foot knocked a stack of empty cans. He turned and fled back into the shadows, not waiting to see if there was anyone after him. It was only when he was four blocks away that he paused and checked behind him. Nothing.

Arthur cursed and then pulled out his mobile to call for a cab.

He got back to his flat and promptly passed out in his bed.


	5. Chapter 5

Sunday, Merlin spent with Morgana on the spare computer. Research into the docks was unproductive. Despite the fuzzy drawings Merlin had been able to scribble down and vague placement of objects, it had been no help. Looking over at his room-mate, Morgana's brow was furrowed in confusion.

"Nothing really on the cameras. No facial recognition in the databases, Merlin."

He sighed. "I was afraid so. I think one of them is magic. So they're probably not from around here. Maybe not even English."

"Magic? Like you?" She looked up at him.

"Well. Kind of. Not really _like_ me, because I think, so far as I've been able to tell, that I'm one of a kind."

"So humble," she grinned.

He flushed. "I'm just being honest."

"So does that help us?"

"Yes. I think. At least..." Merlin worried his lip, flicking through webpages of information. "Well, it's not exactly like you can just _look up_ who is a magic user. We're not exactly...you know. _Around_."

Morgana hummed in agreement.

"Oh! I did see the chief of police sneaking around the docks."

That caught her attention. "Really?"

"Yes. He was... I don't know. He seemed to be looking for something. But then he tripped on stuff and had to run away."  
She snorted. "Smooth."

Merlin returned his eyes to his notes, deciding not to mention he'd covered for the man's clumsy escape. "Well," he said finally. "I'm going to have to start with the small fries it seems. Work my way up to the ringleaders. Since this is getting us nowhere."

With a sigh, Morgana pushed aside her computer to stand and stretch. "I agree. Besides. I have work to do."

"And this isn't work?" Merlin exclaimed, mock insulted.

"Merlin. You're magic. You're a super hero slash magical boy. You can do your own work for a while."

"Not a boy, Morgana," he replied peevishly. Then he stood. "I'm going out for a while."

"Mm-hm. Be careful."

Merlin stuck his tongue out at her before hurrying into his room to grab a heavier jumper and making his way out the door and down to the docks area. He lingered on the fringe of what would probably be considered the dock's 'territory.' Peering down a dingy alley, he sighed when he'd found nothing in the past half hour.

"Looking for something, boy?"

Merlin scowled into the shadows before turning. He should have known that what he was looking for would find him. "I'm not a boy!"

The grunt stared him up and down, confused. "Really? You sound like one and everything... You got tits under there?"

His scowl deepened. "I'm a man, you idiot."

"Isn't that what I said?"

"No, you—" He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Know what? Nevermind. Talking to you isn't going to get me anywhere." He turned to walk away when, predictably, a meaty hand grabbed his arm and threw him up against the wall, just inside the mouth of the alley. Merlin grunted. "You know that hurt me, right?"

The meathead grinned, unkind. "That's the point. Now what are you doing around here?"

"Looking for you."

"For me?" The guy seemed genuinely confused. "Wha—"

"There you are!" A figure came jogging up to them, grabbing Merlin's arm and yanking him away.

"Wha?" Merlin echoed the big man, confused to see the chief of police grinning at him manically. "Should have known you'd get lost on the way to the cinema!" The man gripped his elbow hard. "Sorry, Sir. Was he bothering you?"

The big man shrugged and then ambled away.

"I can take care of myself, you know," Merlin grumbled, yanking his arm out of the the man's grip.

"Mm-hm." The man had amusement written all over his face. "Right. With what muscles?"

"I—" Merlin snapped his mouth shut, remembering to whom he was talking. "Nevermind. It's none of your business anyhow."

"You're welcome for saving your life, big ears man."

Gaping, Merlin stared. "Do you say everything that comes pops into your head?"

The chief of police tossed his head, a flutter of irritation crossing his face.

Merlin snorted. "What are you even doing down here?"

"I could ask you the same."

"I asked first."

The man stared at him. "Right. And how old are we?"

"Twenty seven," Merlin replied proudly, folding his arms.

"Are you sure you're not five?" he replied smugly.

"Are you sure you're not an idiot?" Merlin threw back hotly.

"I'm the chief of police," the man drawled.

"Whoop-ee-do."

"Arthur Pendragon."

"Yes. Yes, I know," Merlin said, refusing to blush as the man held out a hand.

"And you are?"

He nibbled his lip, but held out his hand, giving his real name anyway. "Merlin."

"Wow. Talk about old fashioned."

Snatching his hand away, Merlin glared. "At least I'm not a jerk!" He brushed past Arthur and started heading home.

"What are you doing all the way out here? Where's your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend!" Merlin hollered, not bothering to look back.

* * *

Arthur watched the man stalk away, all skinny limbs and fury. He allowed himself a laugh. Kids like him shouldn't be getting mixed up in the wrong parts of town. He shook his head and looked back to where the big man had disappeared. His misdirected anger was more a source of amusement than anger at disrespect. Poor man had too many things wrong in his life apparently for Arthur to care about being angry at him.

There was nothing suspicious that Arthur found in the hour that was of any use. So he returned home.

Monday morning saw Arthur back at his desk and no further leads on anything at all. "Guinevere!"

"Good morning, Arthur," Gwen said a few minutes later, sailing in with hot coffee.

"Gwen, I 'd like you to phone Lance DuLac. I'd like his expertise on this case."

Gwen's eyebrows lifted. "Arthur Pendragon asking for help?"

"Help? No, Gwen. I'm merely asking for a more specified expertise," he said mildly, fixing her with a look. "Please phone him. I'd like him in this afternoon if he can be here."

"Have I ever met him?"

"No. But he's the best."

"'The best?' Arthur!"

"He's the best as a detective. I am, of course, the best as a chief of police," he said, smiling.

Gwen snorted. "Your ego never fails to impress me."

"Yes yes. Please make the call, Gwen."

"Of course." She headed back out the door when Arthur started chuckling. "Something funny?"

"Oh, Gwen! I forgot! You have to hear about this boy—man. Man that I met."

"Oh?"

"Yes, oh I first ran into him at the tailor when I was getting a new suit. He was with this gorgeous woman. And at first I thought they were dating, but then he got up and ran into me and stared at me like I was... Like I was me."

"Arthur..."

"And that's not the best part. He has these ears..." Arthur held his hands up to the side of his head, flapping them comically. "They're _huge_! And they stick out horribly. I ran into him yesterday when I was doing some patrolling, and he said his name is _Merlin_! Whose mother could be so cruel to do that to a child! He looks so young, but he says he's twenty seven. I wouldn't be surprised if he were down there to get 'something' for a frat party or something. He was about to get pummelled by this boar of a man... So, of course, I stepped in to rescue him. Then he got all mad at me, saying that he could have taken care of himself, thank you very much," he mimicked. "And he has the muscles of a pre-pubescent boy." He laughed again.

"No wonder your dates never stay with you for long," Gwen ribbed.

"Hey now! I'm not dating him. I hardly know him. I've just run into him twice."

"Mm-hmm." Gwen gave him a little wave and then left his office.

Arthur grumbled under his breath, her unenthusiastic reaction dampening his glee. Working steadily through several cases, he looked up when there was a knock on his door frame.

"Hello. May I come in?"

Arthur smiled. "Lance. Hello. Yes, please come in."

"I hear you have a job for me?"

"Some consulting work, yes. Have a seat. Would you like anything to drink?"

Lance laughed, "Am I here for you to play hostess or discuss case details? But yes, some tea would be lovely if you don't mind."

"Gwen!"

"Arthur, how many times have I asked you not to yell for me? We have an office phone intercom system for a reason," she complained as she entered the door. "Oh. Hello. I didn't know you—"

"Because it's more fun," Arthur interrupted. "Guinevere, this is detective Lance DuLac. Lance, this is my best, Guinevere Smith."

"Which is why you treat me like a secretary, a personal maid, and a waitress?" She mumbled, cheeks flushed.

"Speaking of which," Arthur said jovially, "would you please bring tea for myself, Lance, and yourself?"

"Me?" Gwen looked surprised.

"Yes. You've been involved in this whole process, so I figured you might as well. I would appreciate your input and dedication, Gwen."

This time she flushed for a completely different reason. "Um. Right. Well. I'll be—tea. Yes. I'll be right back. Thank you. Arthur."

Arthur didn't miss the long look that Lance cast after her. "So!" he said, startling the other man.

"Yes. Gwen was it? She didn't give me any details on what this case was."

"Right. Well. You've heard of Warlock, correct?"

"Yes."

"I'm thinking that he might be involved in the suspicious activity that I've noted going on in the docks area. And I want him stopped. He's become an obstruction to justice, and I aim to see him put away." Arthur slid a dossier across to the man and then leaned back giving Lance a few moments to look through the information. Gwen snuck in with three mugs of tea, sitting in the chair next to Lance's.

"We really don't know much about this guy, do we..." Lance mused.

"No. And I don't like it. We need more intel on this individual. What's his name? What are his motives. Lance, I want you to tail him, to keep track of him, and see what you can find out about him. Keep me updated on everything. Can you do that?"

Lance looked up from the papers. "Sure."

"And while you're at it, if you discover anything about the goings on down at the docks, keep me updated on that as well?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Excellent."


	6. Chapter 6

Merlin half-heartedly did his routine rescue jobs, keeping his eyes on the docks situation. Planting magical recording devices, he discovered a method of hooking them up to his computer (which ran more on magic anyway) and recorded everything onto his hard drive. There was definitely something going on. Flicking between the different screens, Merlin hadn't got much. Worrying his lip, he glanced at the clock. Swore. It was late and he had work tomorrow. But this situation was worrying him. Drug deals were up and he didn't want Camelot's children getting involved in things like that.

So far, he had gathered that the man—the one had had talked to that day he'd run into the chief of police—was Valiant. And he was in charge of street sales. But he reported to others who reported to others. The whole thing was rather nebulous, and Merlin couldn't tell who was top dog. There were two women that he got a glance of every so often, but he couldn't tell their roles. There was a man, frequently mentioned, Edwin, who seemed to be involved as well. Other names he'd heard bandied about were Anhora, Cenred, Sophia, Tauren, Vivian, Mordred, and Grunhilda. He shuddered at the last. She seemed to be a squat hard woman who frightened many of the other participants in the scheme.

Nothing, however, seemed to make any sense yet. It was extremely frustrating.

"Merlin?" Morgana shuffled into his room, rubbing sleepy eyes. "Why are you still awake? You have work tomorrow."

"I know. Sorry, Morgana. Did I wake you?"

"Mm. Not really. Trip to the loo. Your new suit is hanging in the front hall."

"Yeah. I'm going to wear it tomorrow. Special meeting." He smiled at her.

"Good night, Merlin."

"'Night, 'Gana."

He switched off his computer and then shuffled to his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin, hoping that sleep would come quickly.

When he was dressed for work, he couldn't help but admire the way the new suit fit him. It suited—haha—him quite well, fitting closely, if accentuating his slimness. Shoes clacking on the tile floors as he waved to Duncan, Merlin hopped on his usual bus, briefcase in hand. He had woken exhausted, but the new suit gave him a little rise, and he was ready for the meeting. The docks situation had taken most of his attention, but planning his report ended up taking less time than he had thought it would.

And that proved itself when he gave his accounts of the finances and numbers, Freya nodding her approval. Straightening his lapels, he sat again and waited until lunch.

"Merlin, do you want to go to The King's Table with us?" Gwaine, one of the other accountants who could have easily run the department if he had any ambition, waved him over.

Hesitating, Merlin thought of his nearly empty wallet, whispering a few words to transfer the notes from his bank account to it and then smiled. "Sure." He could indulge every once in a while. Maybe he'd treat Morgana one of these days too.

"Right, we're going! Come on then."

Merlin followed with a grin. The snazzy restaurant was one that he had wanted to give a try. He had half-finished his food and was laughing along with a joke Gwaine told. "Be right back. Loo trip."

Gwaine laughed and clapped him on the back. "Right, mate!"

Finishing his business quickly, Merlin hummed as he washed his hands.

"Oh God, it's you..." A sharp voice said as one of the cubical doors opened.

Merlin jerked. "You've got to be kidding..."

"You're not pleased to see me?" Arthur moved to the sink, cleaning his hands methodically.

"Why? You were _so_ kind to me last time..." Merlin moved to dry his hands.

"You're much better dressed this time. I almost didn't recognise you!" He prowled around Merlin, wet hands dripping on the floor.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "So glad I meet your approval." If it weren't _Arthur_, he could have sworn the man was being flirtatious.

"Who said anything about approval. Is that the suit from Crediband's?"

"It is."

"I figured. His work is always impeccable."

"Thank you. It, of course, has nothing to do with me wearing it."

"Don't be so full of yourself."

"Unlike you?" Merlin retorted, moving towards the door. "Goodbye, Arthur."

Arthur just chuckled. "Farewell, Merlin. Nice to see you again."

"Merlin! We were worried you'd fallen in," Gwaine teased as he got back to the table. "What's wrong? Constipation?"

Merlin flushed. "What? No! Ran into someone...someone I know—kind of—in the loo."

Gwaine's eyebrows raised, but he stuffed his mouth with a bite of food anyway. "Alright."

"Wha—No! God no! Nothing like that!" Merlin wished a pit would open up beneath him. "Just someone I met recently. Catching up."

"You're great, Merlin! So easy to rile."

"Thanks," Merlin groaned. "Glad to be a source of entertainment."

The rest of the meal passed, thankfully, with no further mention to his bathroom activities.

He arrived home, exhausted, but immediately went to his computer, checking on his cameras. He'd forgotten to change when Morgana got back, immediately chastising him for not hanging his suit and letting it rumple as he lounged in it.

"Looks fantastic, however," she added, breezing by to her own room to change.

"Thanks..."

"You look tired, Merlin. Stay home tonight," she called back down the hallway.

"I can't... This needs to be taken care of."

"There are police, you know."

"I have to stay on top of things. They're going to mess it up."

"Nice to see you have faith in our civil servants, Merlin."

He sighed and plodded to his room, changing out of his suit and grabbing his staff. "_Newid_. I'm going, Morgana!"

"Laters! Be safe."

Leaping off the roof with less-than-usual enthusiasm, Merlin glided above the city, checking the crime hot-spots first before randomly swooping through streets. Looking down, he spotted a figure that broke out running. He dove quickly, landing in front of the figure—a man.

"Hello."

The man pulled up short, blinking rapidly. "Um. He—hello?"

"Did you need help?"

"Help."

"Yes..." Merlin drawled, wondering if the man was slow or just stupid. "Did you need help? Did you need me? I can help you, you know."

"Um. No. I mean."

"What's your name?"

"Lance," the man responded, his hand coming forward automatically.

"Lance. A pleasure to meet you."

"And your name?"

Merlin smiled. "Sorry. I cannot tell you that."

"Oh." The man seemed disappointed.

"You must understand. I cannot. The nature of who I am, you understand. Did you need help?"

"Well. No. Not exactly."

"Not exactly?"

"No. Thank you." Lance smiled.

"Right then. Well. I have to be off. You know. Helping others."

"That's what you do?"

Merlin smiled. "Yes. I usually don't... you know. Talk to people very long... Like this."

"That's very fascinating work."

"Well. I may as well put my skills to use." He turned away.

"Wait!"

He looked back.

"I..."

"Sorry, Lance. I must go."

* * *

"Arthur. A word?"

"Lance. Good morning. Any progress?"

"Well. I had words with the man."

Arthur looked up, surprised. "You did?"

"Such as they were."

"Tea, gentlemen?" Gwen asked, poking her head in.

"Thank you, Gwen. What happened?"

"Well. I saw him up in the sky and I ran after him. Apparently, he saw me, because the next thing I knew he was in front of me. Calm as you please. And he asked me if I needed help. He asked if I was okay. He seemed genuinely concerned. And then he said that his goal was to help people." Lance shrugged. "He didn't seem too bad."

Arthur stared.

"I'm sorry. I didn't really learn anything. He sounded young. Looked young as near as I could tell. The mask covers his face. The upper half. His eyes glowed gold."

Arthur dropped his head to his desk, narrowly missing his tea mug. "Fantastic."

"There's still time. He said he usually never...talks with the people he helps. But he seemed willing to talk to me."

"Well, Lance, you do have that type of face," Arthur mumbled against the desk blotter. "Gwen, what updates on the docks?"

"I think we can infer, from recent increased drug sales, that whatever is going on at the docks is related. There's been more activity."

"If I may," Lance began. "I don't think Warlock is involved in this. I think that he might even be incited to help stop things."

Frowning, Arthur sighed. "I know you mean well, Lance. I think... I can't rely on him. I don't know who he is, what his motives are. I've said it all before. But I can't rely on that type of rogue element."

Lance nodded. "I understand. I can try and get his attention again. But I think that he doesn't want this happening any more than you do. You do what you have to though."

Arthur nodded, dismissing the man. He watched Gwen walk out with him, strolling through the office, standing closer than necessary, elbows bumping. He chuckled. Lance was rather her type.

He stood some hours later, stretching. "Gwen," he called as he walked past her desk. "I'm leaving early."

She looked up. "Oh? Alright then. I'll see you tomorrow, Arthur."

Taking a page from Merlin's book, Arthur put on some ratty clothes, hoping to make himself look younger, like a uni student. He was only twenty-six, so he looked young already. Stuffing his feet into trainers, he headed down towards the docks, stopping at a restaurant for some food as the sun slowly sank into the horizon. He made sure that the old jumper was pulled down over his gun tucked into the back of his jeans as he sauntered into the bad end of town, keeping to the shadows.

He hadn't gotten very far when Arthur discovered he was surrounded. Cursing his stupidity, bad luck, lack of attentiveness, the weather, and whatever else was convenient, he affected an eager expression. "Hullo."

"What are you doing here?" One of the gruffs demanded.

"I was—"

"We know you, Arthur Pendragon," another said.

He cursed under his breath, still holding his smile. "Just out for a walk."

"When you live nowhere near here?"

He shrugged. "What do you want?"

A short, squat woman moved forward. "We want your blood, man." She laughed suddenly, probably at the horrified expression that he couldn't keep from crossing his face. "But seriously..."

They started advancing on him, forcing him back into one of the tight alleys between buildings. "Even if you kill me you won't get away with it."

"That's what they all say. But we don't want to kill you," a man's voice replied from beneath a hood. "We just want you to burn." Fire was suddenly in his hands.

"Shit. Gods, what did I do to you?"

"Nothing. Yet. You're just in the way is all."

One of the bulky men got his hands on Arthur's bicep while a fist was suddenly in his gut and the concept of air was foreign. He went down as the man with the fire advanced.

"It's nothing personal, Pendragon. You understand. But this is a good city. And we want it. So that means that you and daddy dearest will have to disappear."

The fire that lit on his jumper as he was held down, too stunned to even shout, suddenly winked out. The man frowned and his hands burned with flames again only to have those wink out.

"Who's out there!" He shouted, whirling around. "Who are you!"

"You should leave this town. It is not unprotected," a voice echoed through the alleyway, people clapping hands to their ears as leaves and debris swirled on the ground with the force of the voice. Arthur staggered to his feet, backing against the alley wall.

"Who are you!" the fire man shrieked. "Come out! I dare you!"

"I don't want to fight you."

"Coward!"

"No. I don't want to destroy you."

Fire man sneered, throwing fire again at Arthur.

Flinching, Arthur was _very_ relieved when it faded to ashes half way.

"Come out and face me, you sodding coward!"

They all squinted as a blue light lit the alley, Warlock suddenly there, between Arthur and the bad guys. "This man is Camelot's law. You will not harm him."

"God, could you be any more of a twink," fire man sneered.

"Who are you?" Arthur demanded.

"Warlock!"

"I knew _that_. I wasn't asking you. You, with the...the fire."

"Ah, ah. If we're all going to be anonymous, I plead silence," fire man said smugly.

"You're Edwin, are you not?"

Fire man—Edwin—denied it too quickly for it to be false.

"Edwin. And the rest of you, for that matter, leave the chief of police alone. I'll be watching."

"Thanks, Big Brother," Arthur muttered.

Golden eyes turned on him. "I'm here to _help_ you, you know."

"I was handling it."

"On your back?"

Arthur sputtered, but then fire—Edwin was throwing a wall of flame at them and Warlock's arms were around his waist and they were flying—_flying—_through the air out of harm's way.

"Where do you live?" the mystery man asked quietly.

"We're bloody flying," Arthur responded intelligently.

"Yes. I hope that's not too disconcerting. You're welcome, by the way."

"Um. Thank you." Arthur stared down at the city below his dangling feet. "You know... While we're here... I've been trying to get information on you." It must have been the air that was affecting his ability to think clearly.

"Oh really?"

"Yes. It would be so kind of you to comply."

"I'm sure it would."

"Yes. Yes, it would. However, as I'm sure you're not going to—I heard you ran into Lance the other night."

"Lance?" his voice sounded surprised. "I did run into a Lance."

"Yes, well, he's a detective, working for me."

"Of course. He was quite polite. I'm sure you have a lovely department."

"I do. They're all quite brilliant." Arthur cleared his throat. "Could you clear up your motives, perhaps? For me. So I can stop worrying about you? Lance said you were an amiable chap."

"I am. Quite."

Arthur twisted his head to see lips twisted in an amused grin. "You're not going to drop me or anything, are you?"

"What? God no. That would be messy."

"Mess—" Arthur broke into laughter, feeling more himself. "Yes. It would be messy. So what are you after in my city?"

"I consider it _my_ city."

"You would."

"You don't know that."

"What do you want?" He felt the shrug travel through the arms that held him.

"I'm just using my gifts and talents to help people. Better than letting it go to waste, yeah?"

"I suppose. That's what Lance told me."

"If I can help people, then I'll do that."

"Is this all you do?"

"No."

"Then—"

"I have a day time job. No, I won't tell you what I do."

"How old are you?"

"Can't answer that either."

"So you won't tell me anything about yourself."

"My favourite colour is blue."

"That's helpful," Arthur sulked.

"Sorry. I can promise you I don't want to hurt anyone. I'm on your side. That much I can tell you," the man vowed quietly, voice strong as the air whistled past their ears.

"Right..."

"Where do you live? I can drop you at home."

"And then you'll know where I live. I don't think I want that."

The man laughed, the two of them shaking in the air.

"H-hey!" Arthur protested nervously, reaching up to grab the man's shoulders.

"Don't worry. We won't fall. Where do you want me to drop you?"

"I don't want you to _drop_ me at all!" Arthur protested, voice tinged with hysteria.

"Sorry. Bad word choice," Warlock replied, not sounding sorry at all. "Where, Arthur Pendragon, Chief of Police, would you like me to deposit you?"

"This is all sorts of unfair, you know."

"Quite right!" The man replied cheerfully.

"The corner of Barren and Seventh would be fine."

They veered in the air and Warlock swooped down towards the ground and set him gently on his feet while still hovering in the air. "Until next time."

"Um. Thank you."

"Do try to stay out of trouble."

When he started to rise back up, Arthur called him back. "Could we... share information?"

"I haven't much that's useful on those people," he said, seeming to hesitate.

"You knew names. It's a start."

"Right," Warlock mused, quiet and thoughtful. "Hm. Very well then. Edwin, Morgause, Grunhilda, Sophia, Valiant, Vivian, and Mordred. I have no last names. But those are people involved. There's been mention recently of a Nimueh, but I have not seen her."

Arthur started. "Nimueh? Are you sure?"

The man blinked. "Yes. I'm sure. What do you know?"

"That's not a very common name."

"True."

"And there's a Nimueh who's dating one of my mates."

"Might want to check up on that then," Warlock murmured.

"I should think so," Arthur agreed.

"Right. Well, time for me to be off." He gave a jaunty salute and then spun into the air.


	7. Chapter 7

"Find out anything new last night, Merlin?" Morgana asked as she arrived home rather early the next evening.

"Um."

Something in his voice must have given her reason to pause because she turned her sharp gaze on him. "What is it?"

"Well, I talked to the chief of police again."

"Oh, Merlin."

"No wait. It wasn't... It wasn't like that. I talked to his detective a few days ago, and this time I saved the chief of police from some of the folks down by the docks. Edwin was going to burn him alive. He was actually on fire. Arthur, that is. So I rescued him. And you can't tell me that that wasn't a good samaritan act!"

"It was a good samaritan act, Merlin. It just wasn't a good _self-preservation_ act."

He chuckled at that, stretching his legs out from beneath him. "Probably not. But he seemed a good sort. Kind. He liked flying."

"Get that dreamy look off your face, Merlin Emrys."

He ducked his head, feeling his cheeks flame. "I know. I know. Nothing can ever happen. We're too different, he would never look at me in real life, there's no reason for us to even get along despite that we both have the same interests at heart for the people of Camelot!"

"You've clearly thought about this," Morgana drawled, hooking her stylish pumps over her fingers as she went to her room.

"When you're done changing, check out my bad guy map in my room. Tell me what you think."

Merlin went back to his book—something he hadn't time for in a long time, but felt the right to indulge.

"Nimueh's a new name," Morgana commented simply as she came back and leaned against the back of the sofa, staring at Merlin.

He tucked his bookmark in and then leaned forward, eager for someone to talk to about this. "Yes. I'm thinking that Morgause and Nimueh are in charge. Cenred, Mordred, and Grunhilda are all seconds in command. The rest of those people are all in charge of separate areas, you see."

"Mm. Valiant is drugs. Anhora does the mixing of said drugs. I think Sophia and Vivian are into prostitution. Grunhilda does intimidation. And Edwin does.. I don't even know. Lending? It's just a huge ring of bad that is going to get worse and spread like a disease if I don't stop it."

"Yes. This is true."

"But..." he said slowly, "I don't think that I can do this alone."

"Alone... Merlin..." Morgana's eyes met his, suspicious and intrusive.

"Yes, I was thinking of asking Arthur for help. He seemed... disgruntled that I was taking over his job." He held his breath while Morgana's eyes bored into him.

"I don't know if it's a good idea, but it's your decision, Merlin. I'm not your mother, and I can't tell you what to do."

Merlin nodded, letting it out. "I'm going to ask him to help."

She nodded. "I'm going to bed then. Be careful, Merlin."

He was careful. He left via the roof as usual, soaring to Arthur's flat that he did not watch Arthur climb into when he'd dropped him off. Knocking politely on the window after he'd landed on his balcony, he waited. Then knocked harder. Huffing a sigh he finally whispered, "_aagored_" and the latch popped open for him to slide the door just enough to the side for him to enter. There was a light on at the end of the hall, indicating Arthur's location.

"Arthur?"

He'd barely had time to poke his head into the room when Arthur was already on the move, gun fired and locked on him.

"_Rhoi'r gorau I_!" Merlin shrieked and everything ground to a halt. He ducked out of the path of the stationary bullet and then whispered "_ailddechrau_."

Arthur gaped and then whirled to face the, to him, newly relocated Warlock. "Shit man! What the bloody—"

"I'm sorry! I didn't know you were going to shoot!"

"What the _hell_ are you doing in my flat?" Arthur demanded, the gun lowering a bit in the face of Merlin's raised hands.

"I needed... Um. Can we put the gun away, please? It's making me nervous."

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to ask you something."

"How did you get in?"  
"I magicked the door open. Your balcony."

Arthur sighed and lowered the gun, allowing Merlin to notice for the first time that he wasn't wearing anything other than a pair of boxers. "What do you want, Warlock."

"I think I know what's going on down by the docks," Merlin breathed as he also relaxed, perching on one of Arthur's chairs. "And I think...I think I need your help to do it."

Setting the gun back on his bedside table, Arthur stared. "You're coming to _me_ for help for something that I should be dealing with _myself_. And if anything, this entire situation is completely backwards."

Merlin grinned. "Well, sorry. But I think I know more about this than you do at this point. Did you find anything out about those names that I gave you?"

"Nimueh. The photo I found of her in our database is the same as the woman—albeit with different hair—as the one who was dating my mate."

"Was?"

"They broke up," Arthur said darkly.

Merlin nodded. "No loss there then. Well. Morgause and Nimueh are the ringleaders."

Arthur nodded as Merlin repeated the information he'd given Morgana.

"So I want to stop them."

"So do I," Arthur replied, giving him a measuring look.

"So I thought that we might as well do it together. It would be more...effective. Having the law on my side. You know."

"No, Warlock. I don't. There has _never_ been any sort of precedent for this. Ever," Arthur drawled, folding his arms across his chest as he sat down on the edge of his bed. "However, I cannot deny that this would be advantageous for the both of us. Seeing as I can't let you keep doing all of our work."

"I knew you were upset about that," Merlin countered.

"Well what do you expect when you make us feel particularly useless?" Arthur complained gruffly.

Merlin couldn't help his grin. "Fantastic! Well not you, but that's a great compliment! Thanks so much!"

"You're an idiot."

"Thanks. You're a clodpole, so I guess we're all even then, yeah?"

Arthur gaped. "God, you're too unbelievable sometimes."

"I'll take that as another compliment."

"You had better," Arthur exclaimed, incredulous. "The other would be..." He shook his head. Sighed. "Did you have a plan for this assault?"

Merlin blinked. "Assaul—oh! The attack. Well. There are magic users amongst them. Several." He set his staff down by his feet and leaned his elbows on his knees. "Morgause, Nimueh, Edwin, Sophia, Valiant, and Grunhilda are all magic users."

Arthur paled. "How did they get so many? And why are you the only good one?"

"There are surely more good ones out there, but they don't get to be famous because they aren't committing crimes. There are lots of healers that I've encountered. So they're doing something good."

"Right... Will you be able to handle them?" Arthur asked.

"Yes."

He blinked. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure," Merlin said stoutly. "I'm powerful."

"Powerful enough to defeat _six_ magic users that are all going to be focusing on you at the same time?"

"Yes." Merlin paused. "Though I'd rather not. That's why I want you guys to create a distraction. Preferably some sort of explosion. Though I could do that too. But I don't want to create that much damage to the area. That wouldn't be good. So I guess, just storming the place and creating chaos?"

"That's not a very good plan," Arthur said flatly.

Merlin thought a minute, realising the truth. He wasn't very used to working with others. "True. However, I can put protection over your people. That way they'll be less likely to get hurt. Because I really don't want them to get hurt. You shouldn't have to lose anyone."

Arthur looked down at that, leaving Merlin to feel a little raw. But he nodded. "So then what? Since this is your plan, apparently."

"I... Do you have a piece of paper?"

Arthur made a face. "Yes. There's one on the table over there you can use."

Merlin floated it over to him and appeared a pen. Smoothing the paper over hardened air, he drew out the layout of the docks and where the individuals were focused. "Nimueh and Morgause tend to keep back here," he said, pointing out an area to Arthur. "And Grunhilda, Anhora, Valiant, and Edwin are mainly in this area while Vivian and Cenred are more behind things, down by the power generators they've set up. So I was thinking that if units were focused on these areas, then that would do well to distract the underlings that they have there. Also, we could make use of smoke bombs and tear gas."

"I think you've watched too many cop dramas..." Arthur muttered, still staring at the floating piece of paper.

"Were you listening at all?" Merlin snapped.

"I... Yes! Stop getting pissy."

Merlin sighed. "Ask."

"What?"

"Your questions about me. We may as well get them out of the way. Ask."

"What the hell's with the outfit?"

Merlin was grateful for the mask that covered his cheeks as he was certain they were rather pink. "It just...is what I change into. It's not like I _chose_ it or anything. When I change—from normal to ...to this, it's what my magic gives me."

"It makes you look like some sort of gay dandy?"

"Shut up! It's...it's sharp!" But he hated the way it came out as more of a question. "Next."

"Are you really really powerful?"  
"Yes, I really am."

"Show me."

"What do you want me to show you?"

"Anything," Arthur said, leaning forward. "None of this little stuff. I want something big."

"Well, it can't be _too_ big, otherwise it'll give me away," Merlin said. "But," he continued before Arthur could interject, "let's see what I can do..._Dewch â sêr a'r tonnau a swn y môr_." The room shifted as the ceiling faded into the twinkle of stars, the wall behind Merlin melting away to show waves lapping at a beach and the sound of waves permeating the silence.

Arthur's jaw dropped comically and he jumped off his bed and spun around, staring. "It's just a... an illusion, right?"

Merlin rubbed his jaw, wondering how Arthur's could hang so low. "No. It's real. Illusions are easy. You could run into the waves if you wanted."

"Did you..._transport_ us somewhere?"

"No. We're still in your room."

"This is... This is amazing!" Arthur ran past Merlin towards the waves, yelping as they rushed over his bare feet. "They're _cold_!"

"It's night time, Arthur, and the waves are _usually_ cold this time of year."

"Yes... but..." He trotted back, shaking sand off of his feet. "It's so _real_. I mean... I was expecting them to be warm."

"Why?"

"Because...you made them?"

Merlin arched a brow, tilting his head. "That makes no sense."

Arthur snorted. "I thought they would be warm because you made them," he repeated. "And if you made them, then it would make sense that your fake waves would be warm because that would make them more pleasant."

"So essentially you're saying they should be warm because that would be ideal, and the purpose of magic is to make things ideal."

"Yes." Arthur frowned. "No?"

"Well. Whatever. I was thinking tomorrow for the attack. Would you be able to get your precinct ready?"

"Tomorrow!" Arthur jerked back to the present, Merlin's magical world fading around them. "No. No, too soon. I need to make the reports, and then get everyone organised and briefed."

Merlin nodded. "Right then. When can you be ready?"

"Monday."

"Monday is it then. I'll be ready."

"Where shall I meet you?"

"Meet? I don't think..."

"I want my people to know that you're on our side so we don't get any stray bullets headed your way." Arthur ducked his head suddenly. "And I think I've kind of painted you as a baddie."

"Me?" Merlin recoiled.

"I didn't know!" Arthur quickly covered. "I didn't know who you were—still don't actually—and I didn't know what you were doing in my city."

A grin came to his lips suddenly and Merlin shook his head. "Alright then. I'll believe you. I'll meet you..."

"Come to the precinct. At dusk."

"Is that a complicated way of getting me to turn myself in?"

"No," Arthur laughed. "I'd have done it by now if I were going to."

"Like you could catch me," Merlin said, laughter in his voice.

Arthur smiled. "You remind me of someone, you know?"

Merlin didn't dare let his grin falter. "Oh?"

"Some bloke..." Arthur replied, tossing the words aside with a wave of his hand.

"And?"

"Just some bloke! I don't have to describe my love life to you."

"Love life?" Merlin echoed as the world spun a bit. Did Arthur fancy him?"

Arthur flushed a bit in the dim light and looked away. "Well. Let me know if you need anything or if you have any ideas. Is there a way for me to...I dunno, _contact _you? Do you leave calling cards?" His voice twisted wryly on the last part.

Merlin laughed. "No. I don't. I don't have a way for people to get in touch with me asides from screaming or needing help... Though... Though I _could_. _Galw cerdyn_." In his hand a little card appeared. He handed it over to Arthur. Say my name when you hold it and tell me to come. I'll know."

"Right..." Arthur held the thing with a bit of awe. "Well. Goodnight then."

"Goodnight!" Merlin skipped out of the room, trotting down the hallway and was opening the door to the balcony when he heard his name whispered in his ear and a tug on his chest. He frowned and then walked back down the hall to Arthur's room. Arthur who was grinning madly in the centre of his room, holding the calling card.

"I just wanted to check and be sure it worked," he said.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Well now you know it does. Goodnight, Arthur."

"Goodnight, Warlock."

* * *

Arthur strode into the building, filled with purpose and triumph. This was _his_ city, and he was going to protect it, rid the evil in it. And he had Warlock on his side. Powerful, amazing Warlock. He grinned.

"Do you even need your coffee this morning, Arthur, or are you just that pleased with yourself?" Gwen teased.

"Guinevere! Schedule a precinct wide meeting for this afternoon at three. I need everyone there. Including your boyfriend."

"Boyfriend!" Gwen turned red.

"Yes! Lance is part of this whole business, so we need him here too."

"I'm not! But—wait. I haven't—we aren't," Gwen sputtered behind him as he pushed his office door open and set down to plan the meeting.

Arthur was incredibly proud of his productivity all morning and through lunch. When he happened to glance at the clock, he was surprised, again, to find it almost a quarter after one. As if on cue, his stomach sharply berated him for his neglect. He stretched up out of his chair and moved to the doorway. "Gwen, I'm going out for lunch, in case anyone needs me. I'll be back at three."

Despite the fact that it was late, Arthur meandered around the restaurants close to where he'd seen that big-eared bloke, Merlin, before. The whole conversation with Warlock had prompted the feelings that he might have been ignoring to the surface. The man was irreverent, that was for sure. But he definitely looked fit in that suit. Crediband's did an amazing job with the tailoring, but Merlin made sure it looked divine.

His luck was good today, however, because there was Merlin, not in the Crediband's suit, but another that didn't fit quite as well, but was black and therefore still flattering. "Merlin!"

The man jerked and then spun around, wide-eyed.

Arthur laughed.

Merlin noticed him then and rolled his eyes heavenward. "I should have known."

"What? I saw you and wanted to say hello."

"We hardly know each other, Arthur. What would you want with me?"

Arthur screwed up his face. "What?"

"Why would you even talk to me?" The man asked, a hand canted on his hip.

"Do I need a reason?" he replied, confused.

Merlin's face softened. "Do you like me, Arthur?"

The straightforwardness of the question floored him a bit, but Arthur thought he recovered admirably. "Um."

Merlin smiled, his whole face changing. "Really?"

The man must be adept at speaking 'Arthur.' "Well."

Merlin laughed.

Clearing his throat, Arthur began again, "I was out for lunch, and I saw you. I thought I might take advantage of the company while I eat. If you haven't eaten yet yourself."

Merlin tilted his head, waiting. "Alright."

"Really? Oh good. Here I was, thinking I was making a fool out of myself."

"Probably no worse than that first day I met you. Saw you."

"Yes," Arthur replied, feeling the equilibrium even out between them again. "The King's Table again? My treat."

"What? No! I couldn't ask you to—"

"Good thing you aren't then, right? I offered." With everything else that seemed to be going right, Arthur couldn't help but feel a little magnanimous with his money and time. "Come on." He offered an arm to Merlin who laughed but accepted it.

"So what are your chief of police duties anyway," Merlin asked across the table some time later.

Arthur shrugged. "Protect the people. You know. There's..." He bit his tongue, unsure if he should continue, but then Merlin's eager face changed his mind. "There's something big going down soon."

"Something big sounds ominous."

Arthur huffed. "Of course. It's... complicated. But the coolest part," Arthur said with a grin, "is the fact that Warlock is going to be helping!"

"What?"

Arthur was proud of the way that Merlin's face flushed with awe. "Yeah! He came to my flat last night and we had a long talk about assault strategy."

"Did you now," Merlin drawled.

Arthur flushed. "Stop that! It was nothing like that! I don't even know who he is."

"If you did though! What would you do?" Merlin countered, leaning forward on the table.

"I... I don't know." Arthur shrugged. "It wouldn't make any difference, I'm sure. Besides..." Arthur slid his eyes towards Merlin. "I already have a person of interest."

"Really?" Merlin sounded interested now, his cheeks flushed.

"Oh yes," Arthur drawled, leaning back in his chair. "It's just a little thing. Nothing really. But I wanted to tell him before... Well. Before the big _thing_."

Merlin's grin almost split his face. "Really."

"Can you say anything besides 'really,' Merlin?"

"I can say 'yes, I like you too, you gorgeous prat.' And I can say 'yes I'd like to go out with you.' But I'm not sure which you'd be interested in."

"Both," Arthur decided. "I'll call you. Right now I have a meeting to get back to."

"All top secret like and dangerous."

"Absolutely."

Merlin stood, looking solemn. "Very well. I wish you the best and hope that you will call me Saturday evening for dinner because I should very much like to see you again."

Arthur smiled, paid the bill, and then escorted Merlin out. "I will. I'll call you."

Except that he forgot.

The meeting passed without a hitch and his entire precinct was aghast at the idea of the legendary Warlock, whom Arthur had been chasing for a good while now, _helping _them against the baddies corrupting the docks. He'd dazzled them with details, though not too many because the man had anonymity to uphold, and maybe Arthur could help that along.

Fuelled by the thought of Merlin's slim fingers around a wineglass stem, he worked hard. So hard that Saturday night came and passed into Sunday morning while Arthur closed his eyes and let his head fall onto his desk.

He cursed as his mobile told him it was 4:42 A.M. So he slumped into bed and slept until 1. He phoned Merlin, left an apologetic message and then went back to paperwork and strategy plans, feeling the thrill of decisive action sweep through him. Monday was coming.


	8. Chapter 8

Merlin dropped from the sky in front of the Camelot Police Station, Arthur standing proudly in uniform before it, a vast amount of cops all crowded behind him. He spotted Lance beside a pretty woman, also in uniform.

"Warlock!" He came forward, hand extended. He looked tired.

Merlin had forgiven him for not calling after the rather apologetic message, and did so doubly now. They were both busy with this thing after all. "Arthur."

"Everyone, in case you live under a rock, this is Warlock. He's here to help us. Everyone knows their roles, Warlock. So you won't have to worry about us. Just worry about your own job."

"Of course," he replied, a little touched that Arthur was concerned, a little amused that he was so excited. "If everyone could gather a little closer, I could put a protection spell on them..."

"Right! Brilliant. Warlock has graciously decided to help us out with protection. So if you'd rather not be spelled then you may step aside, but if you would like his protection, then please gather closely together right here." Arthur backed up to stand at the front of the group of people who apparently wanted his protection.

Merlin smiled and shook his head. It was like a boy in a candy shop, to use an old cliché. He took a deep breath and then stretched his hand out, whispering, "_diogelu_." The air around the people settled golden and warm on their shoulders as the protection spell took effect.

"Wow. Great, Warlock. That's great," Arthur said with more than usual zeal. The man was probably nervous.

Merlin, however was not, and so accepted a seat in Arthur's car as they headed to the docks to park and then walk the final distance. Lance and the woman, Gwen, slid into the back seat, along with another officer.

"You're not going to fly?" Arthur said, giving him a once over.

"Not if I have to. Do you need the space in the car?" He asked, shrugging.

"No. No, it's fine. I just thought..." Arthur shrugged back.

"Not everything has to be a grand gesture," Merlin said. "Besides. I've never ridden in a cop car before."

Arthur laughed, the others in the back seat joining in.

"This is really amazing, Warlock," Gwen gushed, "that you're helping out. We really appreciate it!"

"Sorry I was a bit...weird, mate," Lance said with an easy smile. "Earlier, you know."

"Oh. Forgiven. Forgotten," Merlin said easily.

The other officer stared at him, wide-eyed and a little in awe.

"Don't mind Galahad. He's a bit new."

Merlin laughed. "You're all treating me like some sort of celebrity! Stop it!"

"You_ are _a celebrity!" the young cop said insistently.

"Honestly. Sorry to interrupt your daydreams about me, but I'm just a normal bloke who happens to have these skills that he likes to use to help people. There's nothing celebrity about me."

"We're here," Arthur interrupted, examining their surroundings before getting out of the car.

Merlin piled out with everyone else as the rest of the force gathered. He sucked in a breath and murmured, "_anweledig_" across the people who were there.

"What did you do?" Arthur asked sharply.

"We're invisible to them right now."

"Oh. That's useful."

Merlin nodded. "Right then. I'll get into position. Um..." He conjured two small objects that looked like clip on earrings and handed one to Arthur. "_Cyfathrebu_. If you speak to me, I can hear you, and vice versa."

Arthur nodded and then clipped it to his ear while Merlin did the same. "You'd be very handy to have around, you know? Ever consider joining the police force?"

"Yes. Except my skills are better used outside it. I can do what you cannot do due to regulations and political reasons."

"Mm. Yes. That's true. You could be... I dunno. On the side, you know?"

"Arthur Pendragon, are you suggesting that I be paid under the table to do dirty work?"

"Not at all," the other man sniffed. "Merely that you, as you stated yourself, might be able to better accomplish some of the things that I, as a public servant, cannot."

Merlin laughed. "Right then. Well. I'm off to get into position. _Hedfan._" He rose into the air and waited as the police force got into position. "Arthur, I'm about to get started. Let me know when you're ready."

"Um. Warlock? Can you hear me?"

"I can hear you."

"Ah, good. Right. We're ready."

Merlin nodded and then realised that Arthur couldn't see him. "Good. I'm going in. _Ffrwydro! Ilosgi!_" Some of the buildings Merlin knew the magic users to use exploded and began burning at an encouraged rate.

As people swiftly spilled out of the other buildings like ants from a nest, he heard the cops shout for surrenders and then shots quickly being fired.

Merlin quickly tried to find Morgause, Nimueh, and the others. When the fires blinked out, he smirked. There was Edwin. He called to the man who looked up at him with such hatred. "_Rhewi_," he murmured, pleased to see the man's shocked expression as ice crept inwards from his extremities.

Sophia and Valiant appeared next, Valiant summoning snakes, frightening the cops away, while Sophia sang, all of them stilling in attention.

"Arthur, don't listen to her!" Merlin shouted through the communicator. He kept babbling as the woman sang, pausing only to yell, "_distawrwydd_" and all sound stopped. Sophia's eyes bulged as she felt her throat and then tried to shout something at Valiant whose snakes were writhing on the ground as the cops shot them with silent bullets.

"Whoops... _ilosgi_," he murmured and the snakes began to shrivel underneath the flames. "_Sophia distawrwydd_," he tried and then said, "_dadwneud_" and the sounds of battle returned. Valiant tried again with the snakes but, Merlin was faster, whispering, "_mellt_." The sharp crack of electricity struck him down. "Three down, three to go," he told himself, swooping from the top of the building he'd camped out on.

Morgause burst into the area, head swivvelling, looking fearsome as her golden hair whipped around her by some unseen force.

Grinning, Merlin found it inspiring. "_Gwynt_." Wind whipped up and swept across Morgause, carrying away an unwitting Grunhilda as collateral damage.

"SORCEROR!" Morgause shouted, voice booming through the buildings and open spaces. "COME FACE ME."

Another dark-haired woman staggered into the cleared area as well, holding hands with Morgause. "WE FEAR YOU NOT," her voice echoed,

"Um. Warlock?"

"Yes, Arthur?"  
"I wouldn't go in there alone."

"It'll be fine," Merlin replied calmly. "I'll be fine."

"I hope so," he thought he heard Arthur say.

Floating serenely from the sky, allowing his staff's gem to blaze brightly, he touched ground in front of the two harpy-like women in their anger.

"You have interrupted out business—"

"In my city," Merlin interrupted. "You have no business here. Please leave."

"We will not," Nimeuh answered. "And you will pay for interrupting."

"Try your best."

"WARLOCK!" Arthur's voice hissed loudly in his ear. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Worried?" Merlin returned lightly, feeling at peace. He was powerful, and he could face them down. And win. "_Darian_," he murmured as the attacks of the two women flew his way. "_Counter_." Their spells flew back at them, driving them apart. "_Dinistrio_," he said, stretching his fingers towards Nimueh.

She shrieked and flew apart, crumbling into dust.

Morgause echoed her shriek and turned her full anger on Merlin. She was the more powerful one anyway.

"_Bloc a dychwelyd_," Merlin uttered, letting the magic hold off her spells and then fling them back at her. "_Rhoi'r gorau i_," he continued, time slowing around them.

Morgause struggled and managed to break out of it, throwing iron at him. "_Darian_." The debris clattered into an invisible wall before Merlin.

"_Atal cerbydau rhag symud_," he bellowed, tightening his hand before him, aware that his staff glowed brighter and brighter.

Morgause snarled but eventually found herself unable to move.

"_Rhwymo_." The iron bent to his will and snaked around the woman, pinning her arms to her sides and curling tightly around her. "_Distawrwydd_."

He waited while he watched her struggle, waiting to see her spirit break as she would be unable to escape Merlin's binds.

"Warlock!" Arthur rushed up behind him.

Merlin turned towards him. "Everyone else cared for? How are your squads?"

"They're fine. Hardly a wound on them. You've done brilliantly!"

He smiled so hard his cheeks hurt, opening his mouth when there was an explosion behind him. Merlin whirled, barely having time to bellow "_darian_!" before scraps of metal rained outwards from Morgause. Her hand came up and Merlin found him blown backwards feet over head.

"Warlock!"

Stars of the non-Merlin created variety dotted his vision as he felt blood on the back of his head from smacking a shipping container. "It was too easy..." he muttered, Arthur suddenly at his side.

"Can you sit? You've probably got a concussion."

"I have had enough," Morgause said, voice sweeping across the area like ice. "Warlock, if you would join me, I will not kill these peons."

"Can't," Merlin grunted, getting to his feet. "Stay back, Arthur."

"Are you insane?"

"It's been...said before. _Dod_." His staff leapt to his hand as he leant heavily on it to advance. "Morgause, you have no place here."

She smirked. "You are ended, Warlock."

"What makes you think I am incapacitated?" Merlin retorted, blinking rapidly. "_Gwella_," he murmured several times under his breath. Some of the pain faded. "I don't want to kill you, Morgause."

"It would seem, if you wish to save these ants, then you must," she challenged.

Merlin gave a curt nod. "Very well then. _Dinistrio! Pylu!_"

Morgause grunted as she pushed the spells aside, hissing as a bullet caught her in the leg.

Sparing a quick glance for Arthur who gave him a nod, Merlin felt the anger flare up, planted his staff in front of him, bellowing, "_Ddadadeiladu!_"

Morgause sneered before the expression faded into panic, watching her hands disintegrate in front of her. "No!" she shrieked. "No! I refuse!"

She shrieked some spells to stop the action, but Merlin could feel the power flowing through him, flaring bright as the stone in front of him. Morgause slowly fell apart. When the last echo of a strangled scream faded, Merlin exhaled and sank to the floor. The silence rang in his ears as he sucked air in.

"Warlock!"

"Fine," he wheezed. "Fine!" He swept his hand out, managing to smack he person—Arthur—next to him. His staff clattered on the ground before him, and he winced as the stone shattered.

"You sure?" the words echoed slightly in his ear.

"No," Merlin gulped. "No, I'm not. I have to... Go. I must... Home.. _Cartref_!" Vanishing from the salty-smelling docks into Morgana's flat, he felt a bit bad about leaving the police squadren there, but needed to get home. Get away. Merlin staggered halfway to his room, falling against the wall and letting it aid his descent to the floor. Maybe he would just rest... For just a moment.

* * *

Arthur prowled around his office the two days later, unable to explain the wash of concern he felt for Warlock. He reminded Arthur of someone. A certain someone. He cursed. Who he still hadn't phoned.

As if summoned by the force of his thought, there was a knock at his office door and Merlin stood there, leaning in the door way as if unsure of the reception of his presence..

Guilt swept through him. "Merlin!"

"Um. May I.. com—"

"Yes! Yes, please. Come in. Listen, I'm quite sorry about not phoning you. I've been terribly busy and—Merlin, you look _dreadful_."

The other man choked off a laugh. "Thanks for that."

Arthur shook his head. "I'm sorry. It's just..."

"I look terrible."

"Well yes. What happened?"

"You don't look so at ease yourself."

Arthur gave him a wan smile. "I know. I've... Sorry. I'm just distracted."

"Oh? What happened with the... the big _thing_?"

Arthur laced his fingers behind his back, pacing still. "It went fine. Fine as in we dispatched all of the individuals that we were there to apprehend."

"But?" Merlin inched in the room, leaning back against the wall just inside the door.

"But I don't know!" He tossed his hands up and then ran one through his hair. "Warlock was there and did magnificently. We hardly had a job to do with him there."

"You seem to be a supporter of his these days."

"Yes, well then he vanished! He disappeared after defeating the boss of the whole operation. He didn't look good—he'd been bleeding and hit his head. But then he vanished, and I haven't heard from him since."

"That worries you?"

"Yes," Arthur replied tiredly. "I am...concerned. Concerned for his health."

Merlin nodded thoughtfully. "You seem as much. I'm sorry you've been so distracted."

"I... This. I'm sorry, Merlin. This was just a terrible time. And I've been rather unfair to you."

"No. I understand."

Arthur made a scoffing noise as Merlin shut the door with a heel. "Really, Merlin?"

"Yes." The man sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, reminding Arthur of why he had wanted to spend more time with him. "I... I'm afraid I have something to confess."

"What is it?" Arthur asked cautiously, all affection tamping down beneath a wave of self-protection.

"Well..." Merlin sucked in a breath. "I discovered something. After a slew of things happened, I discovered something... No, that's a bad way to go about this..."

"Merlin, whatever it is, just _tell_ me!" Arthur snapped, nerves and impatience on top of all of the stress and worry, severing his usual patience.

"I am Warlock."

Arthur took a deep breath, sat on the edge of his desk, and stared at Merlin. "Prove it."

"Prove it?" Merlin retorted, a little stunned-looking. Though the shadows under his eyes and pale complexion only made him look like some brooding romantic. "What—"

"Don't play games with me."

Sucking in air, Merlin muttered, "_ddod â'r sêr_."

The ceiling above Arthur once again faded into stars, twinkling and of all colours. He felt the world begin to spin.

"Arthur? Arthur!"

Warm hands were pressing on his shoulders to keep him upright as he almost fell of the desk. "Shit man!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't.. I didn't want you to find out quite then. Too much of a shock, I think."

"And this _isn't_?" Merlin's grin swam into focus as Arthur felt the world slowly stop spinning.

"I don't know. How else do you go about telling one's...friend that you are actually a secret superhero slash magical boy?"

Arthur snorted then burst out laughing. "I thought you were going to tell me something horrible! Like I wasn't worth your time or something! Because I didn't call you."

Merlin's smile was kind and fond. "No, you idiot. I just... I wanted you to know. Before... Before anything happened."

"I understand," Arthur said, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

They both froze, Arthur gaping at what he'd just done, Merlin flushing wildly. Arthur cleared his throat and then leant back, looking vaguely over Merlin's head. "So..."

"I'm okay with that, you know," Merlin said quietly, stars still lighting the ceiling. "If... you know. You're okay with me being Warlock."

"What happened?" Arthur asked, avoiding Merlin's eyes.

"What?"

"When you left? Why did you leave?" Arthur asked, frustrated.

"Oh." Merlin's eyes widened. "I... I didn't want you to know. Yet. I...was hurt. I...don't know." He dropped his eyes and as they did the stars faded. "I'm sorry I lied to you. But I don't regret it."

And Arthur really couldn't fault him for that. He had admitted himself that he was after Warlock. As an enemy. And it was only recently that that had changed. Plus, it wasn't as if Merlin and Arthur knew one another well enough to go sharing secrets of this magnitude. So he settled for, "It's alright."

"Oh good," Merlin breathed, his entire frame relaxing. "I'm glad. I didn't want you to hate me."

"I... I don't." He offered him a crooked smile. "Besides. I wouldn't have shared that secret with me either. You left your staff." He jerked his head at a corner of his office.

"It's... useless to me now." He took a step forward. "I can't... I can't transform. I can only do the magic now."

"Can only do magic," Arthur snorted. "You say it like it's a small thing, Merlin."

"Well, without the transformation, I'm only Merlin."

"'Only Merlin' with a hell of a lot of power at your disposal. Merlin, you don't _need_ to be Warlock to be useful."

Merlin returned his smile and stepped closer. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Confident that he was back on solid ground again, Arthur stretched out a hand and pulled Merlin towards him.

"So then... We're cool, yeah?"

"I think so. If you want..." He slid his hands to Merlin's waist.

"I want."

"Does that mean you'll be my side kick?"

"Side kick?" Merlin protested. "I'm not going to be a side kick!"

Arthur laughed, tugging Merlin against him. "Fine. Well. We'll figure that part out later. Come to dinner with me? And then back to mine?"

Merlin smiled. "I think I might be able to fit that into my schedule."

"Good." He started as there was a knock on the door and Gwen swept in.

"O-oh!" And immediately flushed.

"Ah, Guinevere!" Arthur stepped away from Merlin (who was also flushed), and grabbed her arm. "This is Merlin."

"Merlin! Big ears bloke?" Gwen blurted.

Merlin threw a glare Arthur's way before holding a hand out to Gwen. "I gather Arthur's mentioned me then."

She ducked her head. "Sorry. I just.."

"No. It's fine. I know they're big. I'm glad you and Lance were okay."

"Okay?"

"Oh. Um. I'm also known as Warlock."

Gwen gaped.

"Merlin! Why did you tell her that!"

Rounding on Arthur, Gwen gasped, "You _knew_?"

"I only _just_ found out about ten minutes ago," Arthur huffed, glaring at Merlin.

"Sorry. I felt we could trust her," Merlin shrugged. "You're the first I told though."

Feeling slightly appeased, Arthur crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'll...leave you two...be. We can talk later, Arthur."

"Gwen!" Arthur watched her back out the door with a little waggle of her fingers.

Moving back close, Merlin gave him a sly little grin. "Are you jealous?"

"Jealous!"

Merlin ducked in, kissing him firmly on the lips. "I'll see you later then? I should get going."

Grabbing the sides of Merlin's face, he kissed him hard before standing away. "Later."

Merlin grinned and then skipped out. Huffing a laugh, Arthur shook his head. Big ears or no, Arthur decided. They were _his_ ears to poke fun at.


	9. Epilogue

The phone rang and Merlin jolted from sleep, his hand slapping over his mobile on the bedside table as he dragged it to his ear.

"'Lo?"

"Merlin," Gwen's voice said quietly. "We need you and Arthur."

"Why do I get all the calls?" he grumbled as he reluctantly pushed the covers down and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Because," Gwen returned, amusement thick in her voice. "I know I'd have a better chance of waking you. He never wakes when I call him. Not since you moved in."

He coloured, glad she couldn't see him. "What's going on?" He leaned back, elbowing Arthur sharply in the ribs. He grunted and Merlin did it again, Arthur finally bringing a fist to his eyes with some incoherent mumbling. He sat up and turned bleary eyes on Merlin. "Gwen," he mouthed and then set the phone to speaker.

"There was a murder in a shop down on Eakland Avenue, in between Moore and Fourteenth. It's not magical, but it seems like it might be another in the chain of murders so far. And I wouldn't normally bother you, but I thought, Merlin, you could check out the crime scene and see if there are any traces of what happened. You know."

Merlin nodded as Arthur rasped, "We'll be there shortly, Gwen."

"Thanks, Arthur. Merlin. Sorry to wake you."

"I'll fly us," Merlin said, shivering slightly as he pulled on clothes.

"It'll be faster," Arthur agreed, woodenly moving to do the same.

"When we get back can we have sex again?"

"Yes, I'd like tha—Merlin!"

Merlin chuckled. Arthur's brain was always a little fuzzy when he just woke. It was one of the things that Merlin liked most about living with Arthur. Morgana thought him strange for it and was maybe a little jealous, but forgave him when he introduced her to Gwen and they'd become best friends.

"I can _ravish_ you when we get back, if you like," the other man drawled.

"I thought you liked it when _I_ did that." He could faintly make out the spots of colour on Arthur's cheeks. Shuffling out to the balcony, Merlin carried Arthur to the crime scene, they did their work and then carried them home.

"God it's cold out!"

"It's the middle of the night, Arthur."

"Four _hours_ ago, it was the middle of the night, Merlin."

Shrugging underneath the covers again, Merlin grinned. "Guess there's no helping for it then. Good morning quickie?"

Arthur barked a laugh and then dove at him. They rolled around in their ample bed until Merlin had pinned him before dipping to kiss the breath from Arthur. Then proceeding to kiss everywhere else until Arthur was writhing beneath him and begging for it. Merlin smirked and gave him a teasing pull before lubing up and sliding in to the hilt. He let out a small noise that Arthur surged to capture in his mouth.

"_Mer_lin! Come on, come on," he pleaded, pushing back against him.

"Pushy," Merlin breathed, the words barely more than air.

Arthur clasped his hands on the back of Merlin's neck, thumbs sliding into the soft hairs at his nape. "Come on, Merlin. Harder for me, come on..."

Feeling harder, if possible, at Arthur's words, his dirty words, Merlin angled for that _spot_ that always makes Arthur go mad and hits him hard.

Arthur gasped, his eyes rolling up and squeezing shut tightly. "Yeah, again, Merlin, again," he encouraged breathlessly.

Merlin pegs him twice more before Arthur is strung tight, legs squeezing around his waist as he comes, pushing back against Merlin until Merlin comes too.

"I think I'm going to go in late tomorrow," Arthur said after they had come down from their high, voice full of sated pleasure.

"How nice for you," Merlin retorted, nuzzling his face into Arthur's neck. "I'll still have to go in."

"Have a lie-in."

"Some of us have to work for our money," Merlin yawned, smiling.

Flopping an arm over Merlin's back, Arthur held him close. "We'll be sticky if you don't clean us up..."

A whispered word and then Merlin let himself succumb to sleep in Arthur's arms.


End file.
